


And Silence Comes

by MLauren



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Appearances by other Disney characters, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Musicians, Slow Burn, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLauren/pseuds/MLauren
Summary: There was peace in silence. Calm, tranquil nothingness, which also delivered great anguish. That’s why Elsa Aren filled dull moments with loud percussion. That’s why she taught herself strings when her family forced the piano. In silence, Elsa felt overrun. Dark thoughts crept in; reminders of the person she’d become.Silence reminded her of late nights, and days shadowed in turmoil. Amongst an orchestra, however, in place beside dozens of musicians like herself- Elsa found an escape.  | ElsaMaren | Modern AU | Rated M |
Relationships: Anna & Kristoff (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa & Honeymaren (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 123
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter One

_**And Silence Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Rating:** M for graphic details, language use, and sexual situations

**Summary:** There was peace in silence. Calm, tranquil nothingness, which also delivered great anguish. That's why Elsa Aren filled dull moments with loud percussion. That's why she taught herself strings when her family forced the piano. In silence, Elsa felt overrun. Dark thoughts crept in; reminders of the person she'd become.

Silence reminded her of late nights, and days shadowed in turmoil. Amongst an orchestra, however, in place beside dozens of musicians like herself- Elsa found an escape.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

**Beneath the summer sun, temperatures were reaching over thirty five degrees.** Rays of light reflected off the many glass skyscrapers adorning the city sidewalks. Black leather straps stuck to tan skin. The weight of Maren's instrument braced against her bare thighs, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Its thick carrying strap and its strain were merely an extra limb at this point. She'd become accustomed to its added heat in the humid July weather; Maren had learned to ignore its presence entirely.

It wasn't until she was placing it beneath her table that Maren remembered why she'd toted it along. This class didn't require use of an instrument, but then again… She would never turn down an opportunity to show off her talent; especially not today, and in front of one of her greatest heroes.

At twenty four, Maren was older than most of the other students in her Master's Program. Being a day course during the summer season, many like her were only here now to finish their degree as quickly as possible. She'd come across the pond from the UK, and all in search of the best education her scholarship could afford.

The Ahtohallan School of Dance, Drama, and Music was the final stepping stone in her grand plan for her future. With this remaining summer class, Maren would complete her master's. She'd return to England and audition for a strings chair with the Northuldra Symphony; the dream job she'd held in her heart since she was a child.

This class, Scoring for Strings, held the final credit hours standing between Maren and her destiny.

Incidentally, she'd planned it that way.

The summer course was to be taught by none other than her hero, Agnarr Aren, who, in her opinion, was the greatest composer and professional musician alive today. Maren had carefully selected this class in order to end her academic career on a high note. For the last two years she had wanted nothing more than to learn from the best of the best.

It was that excitement that had Maren arriving early to the lecture hall on campus. She'd picked a seat in the front row of long tables. She faced forward, ready and attentive. Unfortunately though, in her anticipation, Maren had tuned out the chaos taking place behind her.

It wasn't until a worried but familiar face sat beside her, that Maren realized her class's tension was running high.

"What's going on?" She greeted her friend Miguel. A chorus of hushed whispers circled the back row of students.

His brown eyes opened a little too wide as he slowly dragged out his notebook. "You haven't heard?" He grimaced, "They made a change to the class roster this morning- Agnarr Aren is no longer teaching this course…"

Maren couldn't hide her disappointment. Her face fell and she quickly turned away.

"-but that's not the worst of it," Miguel continued, waiting until Maren's attention returned. "When Professor Aren decided to go into early retirement, he recommended his daughter for the position. Her name is Elsa- _Elsa Aren_."

"Never heard of her," she mused. Maren's displeasure still coursed across her complexion, paling her usually dark cheeks.

"Naven, the cellist in the back, said that when Elsa was working on her doctorate here, everyone called her the Snow Queen. She's cold- a real hardass. Apparently she even quit her last teaching gig after expelling a student for misconduct during the final week of their last semester..."

Her back drew straight and Maren grit her teeth, "Yikes! How could someone do something like that?"

Miguel could only bring himself to nod. Any further commentary was silenced as the sharp snap of high heels echoed down the hallway.

Maren sat straight, hands folded. Her full attention snapped toward the door. Her Aunt Yelena's stern voice began ringing between her ears.

_"Only with your eyes can you demand respect. Meet the stare of a stranger, and they'll never doubt your worth."_

That advice had gotten Maren through six years of higher education. She wouldn't allow the rumors made by some of her peers to derail her from making the same impression with Dr. Aren that she'd hoped to make with her father. Maren was determined to end her master's with the same gratifying sensation she'd been anticipating under Professor Agnarr's guidance.

The click of heels drew closer. Maren caught her first glance of the Snow Queen as Dr. Aren finally made her entrance.

Blue eyes found her brown, immediately forcing the air from Maren's lungs. Dr. Aren's stare was cold, like her classmates described. Worse than that, it was completely unwavering. Maren was leveled low in her chair with a feeling of supreme inferiority.

Those blue eyes lingered strictly on her, all the way across the stage. Only when she reached the podium did Dr. Aren look away. She was silent as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. Setting it in front of her, Dr. Aren withdrew a thick binder from its confines.

The rest of the class had her full attention as well. Whether it was Dr. Aren's pale, but commanding expression or her body-hugging lavender skirt, jacket set- Maren couldn't be certain.

She did know why _she_ was staring, however... Maren was transfixed by long bare legs, and the soft round face of the young blonde professor.

She considered instantly that the semester might not be as bad as Maren's classmates believed.

But then again… _she_ could be wrong _._

"Good afternoon, class," Dr. Aren's voice was sharper than Maren expected it to be. "As I'm sure you are all aware, there has been an adjustment made to your summer strings course. Professor Agnarr has taken an early retirement, and I will now be teaching in his place… My name is Dr. Aren. I am an alumnus of The Ahtohallan School, and I am happy to be back here for my first semester as an educator. Today, I'd like to begin by going over our syllabus, and familiarizing everyone with my expectations."

Straight to business with this one. Maren liked it. She pulled the syllabus from her folder and splayed it against the table top.

Seeing the movement, Dr. Aren's head snapped toward Maren. Her blue eyes lowered. She approached from the podium with the same stern click of heels that she entered with. Her gaze dropped to Maren's paper.

Dr. Aren turned and began to address the entire class, "Unfortunately, the syllabus provided by the school for Professor Agnarr's class is no longer valid. I've taken the liberty of printing my own. You may take one and pass them back to the rest of the students." She dropped her voice to speak the last instruction to a single person.

Dr. Aren placed a stack of papers on the table in front of her. The young student, seated center to the hall, looked up at her curiously before doing as she asked.

Dr. Aren continued her introduction while papers fluttered through the masses.

"I'm certain you can all understand why I've made changes to this course. Like the students here today, I'm from a different generation of musicians. I also believe that you are all quite capable of adapting to my teaching style."

Her voice fell silent as a student in the back row cleared her throat. Maren knew the student as Ashley Boyd, the pianist.

Ashley raised her hand with a slight frown, "Dr. Aren, I see you've changed the textbook for this course as well. What would you have those of us who have already started the previous selection do in this case?"

As she was one of those students, Maren looked down at her own syllabus. Her brows skyrocketed to her hairline. Brown curls fell into her face, curtaining her cheeks.

"There are two books on here!" she muttered. "-and surely you don't expect us to read the first three chapters of each before Wednesday?"

The words fell from Maren's lips before she could stop them. She hoped Dr. Aren hadn't heard, but upon pulling the hair back from her eyes… it was evident the professor had caught every single word she'd said.

Dr. Aren held her ground. Her eyes were low and her hands clasped tight at her waist.

"I surely _do_ expect you to complete your assignments... We are all masters level students here, are we not?" She asked sharply.

Maren matched Dr. Aren's stare. She dragged in a short breath. "Yes… we are, but that entails our dissertations in addition to the sixteen weekly credit hours required for this course."

Chin tipping, Dr. Aren's shoulders rounded. "I understand your concern, Miss-"

Maren blinked. Her jaw wavered, "Nattura… Maren Nattura."

"Well, I can understand your concerns, _Miss_ Nattura. However, these are my requirements for this class. If you feel you cannot rise to the challenge, then might I suggest seeking your credit hours from a different summer course?" Dr. Aren's eyes scanned the rest of the class. "Does anyone else feel they should speak up?"

No one said a word. A few students shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

"Very well, now where was I…"

Maren's attention was lost as Dr. Aren read through her syllabus. Both anger and embarrassment heated beneath her tan skin. Never before had Maren worried about the impression she might make on her professors. In class, she was both well-spoken and polite, but now she was off to a terrible start with her new instructor.

It was imperative that she graduate from this course. Scoring for Strings, and the dissertation she had been painstakingly working through for the last two years, were all that stood between Maren and her ticket out of there.

"-since some of us have expressed concerns regarding the textbook change..."

Maren's attention returned minutes later when Dr. Aren's cold stare met hers.

"I will allot up until our fifth class, on Monday, to purchase and read through the first three chapters of each. At that time, I'd also like everyone to hand in an analysis on the role of strings in classical composition. You can use either of our resources to help you with this assignment, as well as your own interpretation of the subject."

Once again, no one dared to say a word, nor did they move. The class was hot under Dr. Aren's stare.

"For Wednesday's lecture... I'd like everyone to come prepared with a video or audio clip of their favorite string score. We can discuss your selections in class and assess what makes each composition significant."

Maren sighed, smiling softly to herself. Finally, there was an assignment she could get behind. These were the types of class projects she looked forward to the most; a way to share her love of music with the people around her. She loved discussing composition- especially _good_ composition.

"Now, because we are going to be spending a considerable amount of time with each other over the next few weeks, allow me to tell you a little about myself and my career."

Dr. Aren came to rest with her back pressed into the podium. Her thighs, draped in tight lavender fabric, crossed at the ankles. Her skirt's center seam remained firmly pressed in a straight line.

She appeared strangely at ease up there- on display in front of an entire class of students; students who were still frustrated with her last minute syllabus change. This woman before them radiated confidence. Her voice commanded the students' attention. Her eyes were wide and passionate. _It was intimidating_. Maren could only assume Dr. Aren's resume was as impressive as her demeanor.

"I was born in Norway. Shortly thereafter, my family moved to the states and I began studying classical music and composition. At eighteen, I spent two years traveling with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. I received my PhD from The Ahtohallan School and I've been teaching in Switzerland ever since. After receiving a request made by the school board, I decided to come back to the city. While I'm here, I look forward to helping guide your musical talent, and I hope to learn as much from my students as I have to teach you."

It appeared no one knew whether to clap or nod. The students did a bit of both before their hands fell uncomfortably back into their laps.

"I'm sure most of you have come to know each other already, however I have not had the same pleasure." Dr. Aren rifled through her messenger bag and withdrew a stationary pad. "Why don't we start in the first row, here."

Her blue eyes scanned the table tops, landing between Miguel and Maren.

Miguel's back straightened into his seat and he offered a timid wave. "Hello," he stammered.

Miguel became uncomfortable around both pretty women and talented musicians, Maren had noticed. Yet he composed himself perfectly.

"My name is Miguel Rivera. I'm an exchange student from Mexico. I am studying musical theory in the hopes to someday teach here at Ahtohallan or back in my home country."

Dr. Aren smiled. It was the first time she'd looked genuinely happy to be there since she'd entered the classroom.

"It's nice to meet you, Miguel." Her eyes turned and lowered to Maren. Dr. Aren smirked. "Next, it looks like we have Miss Nattura." She pursed her lips as she regarded her student once more. "Go ahead, _Miss_ Nattura."

"Right," she hummed. "Well of course, like I said before, my name's Maren Nattura. I moved to the city from across the pond to study classical composition and scoring... When I graduate at the end of August, I'm auditioning for my dream job- string placement with the Northuldra Symphony."

Dr. Aren's face remained stern. "Thank you, Miss Nattura."

She turned from Maren quickly and continued her way around the rest of the lecture hall.

Maren couldn't help but notice that Dr. Aren referred to everyone by their first names- everyone except for her, that was. Perhaps her stunt regarding the textbook earlier had landed Maren on Dr. Aren's bad side. She even called Ashley, the initial student with the complaint, by her first name.

She should have kept her mouth shut. Maren now realized she would have to work twice as hard to gain back her honors standing in the class. It was something she didn't have time for, not with her both her dissertation and graduation right around the corner. Maren's confidence was faltering fast. How could _one_ teacher derail her whole academic career that quickly?

Maren had been so absorbed by her concerns that she didn't hear when Dr. Aren dismissed the students. Miguel was forced to nudge her in the shoulder. Maren looked up, eyes wide, and blushed.

"You go on," Maren told him. "I have a meeting with my advisor after this anyway. I'll catch up with you later."

Miguel smiled briefly before turning to leave the hall.

Maren worked fast, stuffing folders and binders back into her bag. All the while, she was painfully aware that Dr. Aren was the only remaining person in the lecture hall besides her.

Red-faced, Maren stood from her seat and made a mad dash for the door.

"You know," Dr. Aren's voice had Maren slowing in her escape. "I was surprised to hear you express an interest in the Northuldra Symphony..."

Maren turned slowly towards her. Her shoulders tucked into her ears.

"Why not London, Oxford, or the Chamber of Europe?"

Maren continued to shrug. "Um, all great selections," she nodded, drawing her eyes to Dr. Aren and back to the floor again. "They're just not really for me..."

"Is there something significant about Northuldra that I am unaware of?" Dr. Aren lifted her bag onto her shoulder.

Maren wasn't certain if it was condescension or curiosity in the professor's tone. She decidedly ignored both. "Northuldra was the first professional symphony I ever saw... They're the reason I love music as much as I do."

"I see," Dr. Aren pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "Well, have a good evening, Miss Nattura. I look forward to seeing what string selection you make for Wednesday's class."

And with that, Dr. Aren exited the room. She left Maren feeling even more baffled. Maren waited a moment, tugging her violin tighter against her hip before hurrying off to her meeting.

* * *

_Cheers,_

_M._


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big HUGE thanks to my favorite hammy-ham, Superamy777. Your edits are fabulous, but your friendship is BETTER.

_**And Silence Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

**Upon arriving home hours later, Maren couldn't shake Dr. Aren's cold stare.** Those blue eyes were forever engraved in her brain. Her skin still heated and her heart still raced, remembering the day's class. Elsa both terrified and intrigued her. She was someone worth getting to know, while also keeping cautiously at arm's length.

The constant thought of her had Maren sitting down at her computer as soon as she walked through her apartment door. She was eager to pick her selection for Wednesday's class.

Over the years her list of favorite scores had grown immensely. Whatever she decided to show up to class with, it had to be special. Maren's composition needed to be powerful; something worthy of getting off Dr. Aren's bad side and back into good standing.

Earlier, while Maren had sat in her meeting with her thesis advisor, Richard Hammond; she could still feel the anger and embarrassment of her first strings' lecture. Maren wanted Elsa to like her. She wanted her respect and approval, but the thought of wanting that… _chilled_ Maren to the bone.

There was no logical reason for her to feel so desperate about this. Never before had Maren wanted anything more than a passing grade. Perhaps it was because Elsa was the daughter of Agnarr Aren; latest in a long line of musically talented people. Impressing her would be a mark of Maren's talent, and the confidence of having done so wouldn't hurt either.

However, with her dissertation performance less than two months away, Maren needed to prioritize her focus. Amending her relationship with Dr. Aren was not at the top of the billet for tasks she should take on…

Still, while seated in front of her music library, Maren's desire to impress the young professor became a priority. She'd already purchased the new textbooks. Maren planned to spend her night reading through the assigned chapters; all in the hope that by Wednesday she'd be a force to be reckoned with. She would select a string piece worthy of Dr. Aren's impressive accomplishments, knowing whatever she brought to the table had to be unique.

If only Maren knew more about her… If she were being honest, getting to know Dr. Aren was all she'd been able to think about since leaving her class.

If she knew Elsa's favorite instrument or her preferred style of music, Maren could hand-pick a song that fit her best. Was Elsa a classics woman, or did she enjoy a more modern variety? Was her own music library filled with geniuses like Tchaikovsky and Mozart, or did she fall toward the modernized spectrum; with artists like Beck and Zimmer?

Maren quickly learned a simple Google search could help in her endeavour. Moving from the desk to the bed, she braced the laptop against her knees. At her side awaited a bowl of grapes. Maren plopped one into her mouth as the search results filtered onto the screen.

"So… what's your secret, Dr. Aren?" She wondered aloud.

The first few results were nothing more than what Maren could learn from a simple resume.

Dr. Aren was twenty-seven years old. She was a talented musician, who'd had many opportunities to prove it. Her family was as successful as she was, and all their performance reviews were out of this world.

Dr. Aren did fail to mention, however, that the rest of her education included universities like the Paris Conservatory and the School of Performing Arts in Vienna. Elsa was a seasoned traveler, it appeared. Maren couldn't say she wasn't a little jealous.

Bored with facts and logistics, the second page of results delivered more of the information Maren was looking for. She clicked a link to a popular social media site. A video of Dr. Aren had gone viral with over three million views. The title read, " _No one loves their job more than this chick"_ , and Maren was driven curious. She clicked play, leaning back into her pillows and waiting behind wide eyes.

Immediately, Maren wanted to laugh…

The woman in the video couldn't be Dr. Aren; not the one she'd introduced herself to in class today. _It was impossible._

Conducting an original piece, _this_ Elsa was in her element. She blended her orchestration with dance-like movements, and her musicians loved every minute. They took free moments away from their instruments to watch her conduct. Everyone in her presence was as mesmerized by Elsa, as Maren currently felt herself.

Not only was her composition beautifully timed, but Elsa was acting it out. She was making herself a part of her nonverbal story, and it was incredible to witness.

Each rise and fall of the music harmoniously followed her dramatic hand movements. She bobbed, swayed, and commanded the stage with an enthusiasm Maren had never seen before. It was evident Dr. Aren loved music. The person who uploaded the video had been correct- Elsa did enjoy her job more than anyone else.

When she was up there composing, it was like Elsa sought to create magic.

Whether music or magic, it didn't matter. Elsa didn't just write songs- she _was_ her songs. The magic of melody was in her blood. She was everything her talented father was, and _so_ much more.

How had Maren not heard of Elsa Aren before?

She quickly realized how harshly she'd judged her young professor. Yet, that wasn't entirely Maren's fault. Dr. Aren lived with her own distinctions. Between her cold blue eyes and stern commentary, Elsa put on the facade that all the rumors about her were true.

Maren couldn't help but wonder, now, where the woman in this video had been hiding today? In her crisp professional clothes, Elsa reigned as the Snow Queen behind a podium. Dr. Aren lived a double life. She existed as a magician on the stage, but a monarch in front of her class.

Selecting a favorite string piece had just become immensely more difficult. Maren was no longer interested in impressing Elsa. _No._ She wanted to come to class with a selection that pulled Dr. Aren clear out of her dark double life, and set fire to the magic Maren now knew lingered under her pale skin.

She would breathe life back into Dr. Aren's classroom persona, and stop her classmates suffering.

_Well…_ Maren's own suffering…

* * *

Across from Four Pond Park, another woman had just arrived home.

Dr. Aren, with her head high, marched up the stairs to her new apartment. A young redhead followed in tow. Together they arrived at the landing of the fifth floor. Elsa was smiling. Her endorphins were racing, but her travel companion appeared less enthusiastic.

"Why do you always insist we take the stairs?" The redhead dramatically huffed.

"Stop it, Anna… the extra steps are good for us." Elsa rolled her eyes.

"That's not exactly true," Anna argued as her sister unlocked the door. "People die from physical activity all the time. They have heart attacks and strokes-"

"Okay, now you're being dramatic!" Elsa held the door to Anna, allowing her to pass through.

She watched her pout as she crossed the room. Anna threw herself onto the gray sofa and kicked her feet up on the ottoman.

"You're older than I am, anyway," Anna teased. "It's _you_ who might need to consider slowing down a bit."

Elsa couldn't help it. Her eyes were rolling again. She entered the small galley kitchen to her left and dumped her groceries out on the counter.

She and Anna had grown up together in this very city. While she had followed in her parents' footsteps and been impassioned by music, Anna had gone into childhood education. During Elsa's many years of travel, the two always remained close. She adored Anna more than anyone else on the planet, and had grown to love her fiance Kristoff, too.

"I'm happy you decided to stay this time," Anna slid in at Elsa's side as she scrubbed down produce in the sink. "I know it wasn't exactly what you were hoping for right now, but I missed having you here with me… I always worried while you were away. And who knows… maybe coming back might convince you to settle down…"

"Snowball's chance in hell," Elsa bumped Anna's shoulder. "As long as I am back in the city, my career comes first."

Anna lifted herself onto the counter, turning to sit. "Someone's grumpy," her eyes crept toward the ceiling, ignoring Elsa's glare. "It's not my fault Ahtohallan School finally got their claws in you- how much did they offer to make you say yes, again? _Eighty…_ _ninety_ grand?"

Elsa refused to respond. She kept her attention strict on the task at hand.

"-or was it more than that? I mean… you did agree to take on two jobs for them… and here I thought you'd sworn off teaching for good after everything that happened in-"

Anna silenced upon seeing Elsa's face grow stern. Her brows were knit and her lips pursed.

"I told you," her voice surfaced dryly. "I'm teaching for _them_ , and composing their orchestra for _me_. That way I keep my name relevant, and if Central City reopens a seat- I'm already in the state to audition."

Humming, Anna sighed. "I'm still upset C.C. Orchestra brought you all the way here only to hand over your chair to a newbie string player… You're lucky Papa decided to retire early, though. That really worked out in your favor."

"Yeah… _lucky…_ " Elsa deadpanned. She dried her hands on the dishrag over the stove. "I can't dwell on what could have been. Everything happens for a reason, after all..."

Anna watched her sister trail away from the sink with her shoulders drawn back tight. "How was your first day, then? Anyone giving you any trouble?"

A smirk pulled at Elsa's lips. She turned from Anna quickly, hoping to hide it. "Nope… No trouble."

"I know that face!" Anna sang, "What happened? Who were they? What did you do?"

Elsa opened her refrigerator. She scanned its contents slowly. She could feel Anna's laser-like stare on her back, and turned with a container of eggs in hand.

"It's nothing. I didn't do anything father wouldn't. Besides, I can't let these students think that they can take it easy because we're all so close in age."

"Oh, Elsa…" Anna grinned, shaking her head. "Why would anyone think that? You scare them too much as is."

Her comment had Elsa smiling as well. She _did_ frighten people, and if she were being honest- Elsa preferred it that way.

Music was an industry. It was a business; like any other form of entertainment on the market. Elsa had to play the part of a dedicated business woman. If she didn't, she would never have gotten anywhere in her career, _and that couldn't happen._

Elsa refused to fall short of her family's expectations.

"I hope you weren't too hard on anyone, though… You do have to spend the next two months with these students." When Elsa didn't reply, Anna continued with her teasing. "You don't need to be such a hardass all the time, you know? I know torturing students makes you happy, but your class does have feelings…"

Elsa knew her sister meant well. Anna was always making light of her situation, but Elsa had a plan to follow. She had a role to fill; a role that had been created for her generations ago.

Elsa couldn't let anyone get in the way of that- not even the feelings of some unimportant student.

* * *

By the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, Maren had finally settled on a selection for Dr. Aren's class. She'd neglected many hours of more important scholarly matters to do so. Between her dissertation and her reading, this small assignment crept in as a priority.

Maren's piece was bold. It was exciting, and more importantly… Maren knew it would brighten her professor's day.

She sat in the same seat she'd taken on Monday. Maren waited eagerly for the arrival of Dr. Aren; while noticing that none of her fellow students displayed quite the same level of enthusiasm. That wasn't a rarity, though. Maren was used to it. Often she felt alone in a sea of students who were too focused on their academic endgame to enjoy the small assignments along the way.

Maren's excitement had her only half listening as Miguel filled her in on his other summer course. She nodded and smiled, feeling her anticipation grow with each passing second.

Only when the steady click of high heels approached from the hall, did the full class respond. Students took their seats. Backs pulled straight, and Dr. Aren entered the room.

As she had on Monday, Dr. Aren directly approached the podium. Her stare was harsh. She eyed the class in a single sweeping motion before dropping her bag at the professors' desk.

Maren couldn't help but notice Dr. Aren hadn't once looked at her. Blue eyes carefully skipped right over her seat as they pulled across the room. It felt like a bad omen to Maren, but she had one more opportunity today to make things right.

"Good afternoon," Dr. Aren greeted with a sharpness that stung. "I'm excited to hear what selections you've brought in to share."

There was the shuffling of students hurrying for their laptops and audio devices. Maren, herself- she was already ready. Her laptop was open and her cursor hovered over the 'play' button.

"Let's get right to it, then, shall we?" Elsa leaned into the podium, crossing her arms. "Everyone is allotted five minutes for their compositions, sixty seconds for their defense, and then we will open to the floor for a brief discussion. Also, anyone who has read through the text- bonus points for any references made during your response."

Dr. Aren's manicured finger tapped against her chin. She left the stage, floating elegantly over her heels.

She slowly circled the room and hummed, "Now… where to begin?"

Despite Maren appearing as eager as ever, Dr. Aren began at the back of the class.

For the next two and a half hours, Maren watched the professor select student after student to play their piece. Some selections were inspiring. Some were familiar and some new, but Maren had yet to hear anything like what she was desperate to share.

Still, she waited as patiently as possible while listening in on the students' conversations.

Most were eager to participate. It was one of the benefits to being in a university for music. There was no one here who wasn't passionate about instruments to some degree. Maren admired what most of her classmates had to say, but her own excitement far outweighed what anyone else had shared.

During the end of the lecture period, Dr. Aren finally came to stand in front of Maren.

Her eyes were low. Her jaw set against grit teeth. For the last two hundred or so minutes, Dr. Aren had been nothing short of polite and respectful to the other students. She was a little formal, sure, but now her icy demeanor was back in place. Dr. Aren was one tight lip-curl away from angered, even.

Maren had to wonder if she'd saved all that hostility just for her?

"Well Miss Nattura… what have you selected for the class?"

Maren was tense under the professor's stare. She shook her laptop back into its wake state and lifted her eyes to meet Dr. Aren's.

"Max Richter's, " _She Remembers"_. The score has always been a personal favorite of mine. It's quad use of strings is why I selected it for today's assignment."

"Richter," Dr. Aren's brows lowered further. "I see you went with a _modern_ selection… Very well, Miss Nattura, you may continue."

Immediately regretting her decision, Maren pushed her fears aside. She pressed play on the screen and allowed the melancholy sound of the cello filter through the room.

When the score completed, Maren looked up to find Dr. Aren seated atop the desk, center stage. Her blue eyes were cast down at the wood planks. She appeared bored and nearly disappointed.

"What was your reasoning behind selecting Richter, Miss Nattura?" The tone was dry. Dr. Aren's lips pursed.

"I enjoy how the cello sets the initial tone for the piece, like a page opener." Maren cleared her throat, startled by the lack of enthusiasm in Dr. Aren's gaze. "The use of different strings, and the subtle piano, each work to create their own story. The instruments build into separate crescendos. It's remarkable that, though each string instrument keeps the same time, each score is vastly different. Richter wrote six separate scores to fit into one truly dynamac, but beautiful song. Up until the end, when Richter tapers away, much like he did after the title. I find it both invigorating and sad… at the same time."

Dr. Aren allowed her chin to tilt slowly into a nod. "I see… Though I have to say I am surprised you are not more impressed with Richter's use of strings in say, " _On the Nature of Daylight"_ or his recomposed score of " _Spring 1"_. Afterall, those two selections are a better showcase for your argument about the dynamic use of separate scores for many string instruments. Strings should be the show stealer, in my opinion; not the show's driver."

" _Spring 1_ , I find, is too contemporary," Maren baited. She'd had enough of the Doctor's critiques.

"Why don't we open it up to the floor, then? I'm sure you're just as eager to hear what your classmates think of your selection as you were to share it, wouldn't you agree?"

Maren merely shrugged in reply. She watched Dr. Aren turn the discussion over to the class.

Maren listened to the remarks from the other students. Most were in agreement with Dr. Aren, causing Maren's anger to heighten. Some said her selection was too predictable to be significant. Others said it was too dynamic, but what was more infuriating than their betrayal was the look of satisfaction growing over Dr. Aren's face. As the student's became less impressed with Maren's selection, Elsa only appeared more pleased.

_What was with this woman?_

Upon dismissal, Maren was more than eager to leave the hall. She had her belongings packed in a matter of seconds and filtered into the line escaping the room.

" _Miss Natura,"_

Maren was nearly out the door. She turned over her shoulder to find Dr. Aren beckoning her back with the waggle of a single finger. Maren's brows lowered in response. She crossed the stage slowly to where Dr. Aren was packing away her things.

She waited until the other students had left before raising a stern face to her student. "For someone so passionate about her own selection, I'm quite disappointed in you… I would have liked to see you display some of that same enthusiasm while discussing the pieces your classmates chose."

_Baffled._ Baffled was a good word, and that was exactly how Maren felt in that moment.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I hadn't realized I-"

"Music is something that must be shared in order to be enjoyed. Wouldn't you agree, Miss. Nattura?" Dr. Aren's blue eyes lightened as she waited for Maren's response.

"I guess… I hadn't thought of it like that before…"

"Which do you prefer- a piece written strictly for the piano, or a composition containing many instruments?"

Maren took a breath, "Many instruments, of course."

"Well," Dr. Aren hummed. "If our favorite music cannot be played alone, then it's safe to say a song shouldn't be enjoyed alone either… You left your classmates today without your input; all because you were too busy considering what _you_ had to offer. There's a lot of fault in that. You never stopped to think that your fellow students might have had something they could teach _you_."

Maren's jaw tipped. Her eyes grew in size. She wanted to ask Dr. Aren what her deal was? She wanted to get angry, shout, and make a scene, but instead, Maren simply nodded.

"I'm feeling disappointed in you, Miss Nattura… I'd hate to see a talent such as yourself fall victim to the narcissism of classical composition; like many of us do… If you truly believe that scoring music is a one man job, then you might do well in the future, but-" She paused, raising into her spine. "But if you embrace the other talented musicians around you who are all hoping to achieve the same goals- I believe you'll be more successful than you could ever imagine."

Maren turned for the door. Her ears and cheeks were burning. She'd had enough of Dr. Aren's berating and had one foot out the door.

Dr. Aren cleared her throat, "I did not dismiss you."

"I'm dismissing myself," Maren deadpanned, and walked away until she was fully out of sight.

* * *

_Cheers,_

_M._


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "-making Elsa's skin crawl sounds creepy. Change it." - SuperAmy777  
> "Oh god, you're SO right!"  
> -  
> BIG HUGE THANKS PER USUAL, MY FRIEND.

_**And Silence Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Chapter Three**

* * *

" **Elsa, dear, you understand the precariousness of your situation, don't you? This doesn't look good- not for the school board, not for me or for you."**

Standing before her father's desk, Elsa dragged in a steady breath. Her head dropped into a nod. "Yes, father. I understand, however you did tell me the class was mine to alter as I saw fit-"

"With limitations, of course. Between textbook changes, new learning achievements, and three additional assignments; four of your students have withdrawn from a class that started with less than thirty enrollments." Agnarr's green eyes lowered. He sighed, "I can handle the school board and my father, Elsa, but it will be your responsibility to work on your relationship with the students."

Her attention fixed to his face, but she didn't say a word. Angarr looked down at his desk and closed the manila folder.

"I know you were only doing what you believed to be right for your class, but these students were not raised as you were. They have limitations- full-time jobs. You want them at their best, but their best may not be what you expect it to be." Agnarr's eyes returned as he held the folder out to her. "I know you're aware, but our family cannot afford another situation like what happened with you in Switzerland. I hope you remember this moving forward."

Elsa accepted the folder and tucked it beneath her arm. "You don't have to worry. I'm here to do my job as you and grandfather expect me to."

"Thank you, Elsa." Agnarr offered her a small, but sincere smile.

Before anything further could be said by either of them, the door to the office was thrown open. Anna entered the room, a wide grin pulling against her cheeks.

"Here you both are!" she exclaimed. Anna's arm draped around Elsa's shoulder and she squeezed her playfully. "I was wondering where you disappeared to. Weren't you going to help me with that lesson plan for next week?"

Lips pursing, Elsa nodded. She watched Anna draw away from her and approach their father's desk. She placed her lips on his gray and stubbled cheek before straightening.

"She's all yours," Agnarr told her. "Elsa and I finished our discussion before you came in."

"Great!" Anna beamed.

As she passed Elsa by, Anna linked their arms together. She started dragging her toward the door. Elsa's eyes lingered on her father's until he turned back to his desk. Only then did she follow her sister out, the folder still braced beneath her arm.

"Thank you for that," Elsa whispered once the door had closed behind them.

"I remembered the plan. Ten minutes and not a minute more, then it's safe to come and rescue you." Anna winked.

Anna led Elsa through the hall and into the lounge. She threw herself onto the couch, leaning back into the pillows. Elsa moved much more slowly. She sat beside her sister and tossed the folder onto the coffee table. Anna watched Elsa smooth down her skirt before relaxing onto the seat herself. Always the perfectionist, _her sister_. After years of rising to her family's expectations, it was evident that part of Elsa would never change.

"So… what's got him all riled up this time?" Anna's blue eyes slowly circled up from the folder to meet Elsa's.

"Nothing I didn't expect when I agreed to take the job. Some students dropped my class- father believes I was being too demanding with my syllabus changes."

Her chest raised as Elsa sighed. She picked at the skin beside her nails, allowing her attention to pull away from her sister.

"Doesn't that happen in all college courses? People sit down, they look at the requirements, then they decide to take something else?" Nose scrunching, Anna's lips pulled to the side.

Elsa merely nodded, "Yes, and if it had been anyone else's course, none of this would be an issue-"

"-but because it's yours…" Anna cut her off.

"Exactly,"

"Oh, Els, I'm sorry you have to put up with all of our family's crazy. I don't know why you get it so much worse than me…" Anna rested a hand on Elsa's knee. Her fingers soothed in small circles.

Elsa offered her a small smile and placed a hand over Anna's.

The truth was, aside from being the eldest, Elsa knew precisely why her father was so hard on her. There wasn't a silent moment on any given day, she didn't remember exactly what she'd done to deserve it. At the thought, Elsa's cheeks reddened. Blood pounded in her ears. Her shoulders pulled incredibly tight and she pulled away from Anna's touch.

Elsa stood quickly, causing Anna's eyes to widen. "We were getting dinner, weren't we?"

Smiling, Anna returned to her feet. "You bet!"

"Is your car here or did you take the train in?"

Anna held up her keys, dangling them off her pointer finger. "Shall we?" She took the lead toward the archway.

Elsa stalled briefly. Her eyes fell toward the folder on the coffee table. "I'll meet you out front," she nodded for Anna to continue.

When Anna left and Elsa heard the front door close behind her, she picked up the folder. Her thumb nudged between corners. With a deep breath, she quickly flicked it open and her eyes scanned the page.

"Students removed from roster…" she whispered aloud. Her attention carried down the list.

When Elsa reached the bottom, she closed the folder. As she tucked it beneath her arm, the edge of her lips began to curl. Elsa fought the expression. Her face stiffened once more.

"As expected," she nodded, and headed for the exit; the click of her heels echoing throughout the marble hall.

* * *

When the following afternoon arrived, Agnarr's words still lingered in Elsa's head. However, improving her relationship with the students was not something Elsa was interested in. She had a job to do. She wasn't here to be anyone's friend, but the reminder of the four students who wouldn't be at today's lecture burned deep. Elsa might not have been able to salvage the loss of those four, but she could prevent the remaining students from making the same decision.

Elsa returned to campus wearing a brand new pair of Louboutins and a red, halter-neck blouse. Instead of the all-business skirts she usually wore, Elsa opted for jeans. They were dark washed, nearly black, and flared out over her heels. Her hair was still drawn back in a tight bun, but with her more casual appearance, Elsa hoped to better appeal to her class. Perhaps if she looked human, the students might start to believe it?

She entered the academic building early - almost a full hour before the start of her class. Elsa found her apartment to be far too quiet, and her sister's advice to find a furry companion still went unheeded. Her hope was that the lecture hall would be more stimulating. The latest masterpiece she was working on had remained half-finished since the start of May.

Expecting to be alone with time to work, Elsa crossed the stage. As she walked she appeared less rigid than usual. There was a slight droop to her shoulders and her face was relaxed. In isolation, she could be herself. It was only with others she felt the need to keep up the Snow Queen facade.

Elsa dropped her bag on the podium, turning to set up her cello. As she spun, Elsa stopped dead in her movements. Seated at her usual table, breaking Elsa from her calmer state- was Maren Nattura.

"Oh!" Elsa frowned. Her hand tightened around the handle on the cello's carrying case. "I'm sorry... I didn't see you there."

Maren appeared equally as shocked as she did afraid. Her honey colored eyes had widened and her mouth slightly dropped.

"No, it's uh… alright…" Maren's shoulders started to lift toward her ears, "I saw this room was vacant before our class… You must've had the same idea I did…"

She was still for a moment. Maren stared at Elsa before she straightened quickly and stood from her seat.

"I'll just- I'm sorry… I'll get out of your hair," the words left Maren's mouth in a rush. She closed her laptop and slipped it into her bag.

"Miss Nattura," Elsa stilled Maren's fumbling and watched her head turn. "I believe we're both quite capable of working in the same space respectfully."

Maren blinked. She gave an uncomfortable nod. "Of course, but um… Are you sure?"

Unmoving, Maren's hands remained tight on the laptop in her bag.

"It's perfectly fine. Please… go back to your work, and I'll do mine."

Maren slowly returned to her seat. Her eyes stayed on Elsa as she soundlessly replaced her laptop on the table. The professor had returned the cello on its side against the podium and was fishing for a notebook in its place.

"Feel free to play," Maren offered with a slight shrug. "I mean… you looked like you were getting ready to play something… Please don't stop because of me."

Elsa's stern demeanor was quickly returning. Her teeth had grit and her eyes lowered. "I'm afraid I don't share my music with others until it's worth sharing, Miss Nattura."

She watched Maren's head duck back behind her computer. Elsa sighed and opened her composition book. She set it against the podium, thumbing through the very few pages she'd composed. Unfortunately, the score held little interest for Elsa now. She closed her book and slowly made her way toward the first row of tables.

"What are _you_ working on?" Elsa heard her voice surface sharper than she meant.

Maren didn't seem to mind, though. She regarded Elsa with a subtle lift of her brows and spun the laptop for Elsa to see.

"It's my dissertation… for the school's summer concert series."

Nodding, Elsa's lips tugged to the side. "What do you have so far?"

Maren offered her a small grin before brightening the display on her computer. "I've made it through the adagio, but I'm having trouble with the minuet… I'd hoped to keep the percussion as subtle as possible, but without wasting the orchestra's time."

Elsa considered her student silently. Her expression remained strained, but her blue eyes had softened, enlarging sympathetically.

Finally, she reached forward toward the computer. "May I?" she asked, pausing before the screen.

"Of course," Maren quickly nodded.

Taking the laptop into the bend of her elbow, Elsa kicked off her heels. She began to float down the aisles on her bare feet. Her free hand moved at her side, keeping time for the silent score. She continued that way for a long moment. Maren watched her professor's lips open and close as she read, and Maren couldn't help but smile.

After a long and uncomfortable few minutes, Elsa returned to Maren's side. She replaced the laptop on the desk before dragging over a chair.

"You see this, here?" Elsa inquired. A perfectly manicured finger came to rest gently over the screen. "There is great variation here. It matches the theme you have going into the allegro perfectly, but then… coming into the minuet… you change tempo entirely."

Elsa's forehead wrinkled. She closed her eyes, envisioning the sounds of Maren's score once again.

When her eyes returned, she met Maren's patient stare. "Do you have your strings' scores with you?"

Maren smiled, nodding eagerly. She clicked through the tabs on her computer. "This is the violin, here, and then the cello."

This time without permission, Elsa walked away with Maren's computer once more. She surprised Maren by placing it on the front desk and removing her cello from its case. Elsa kicked out the chair. She sat with the instrument straddled between her thighs, and very softly… began to play.

Maren had yet to listen to anyone other than herself, perform the score. Now, here was the daughter of Agnarr Aren, not just playing the music, but acting it.

The way the professor moved with the instrument was mesmerizing. There was the casual bob and sway of her waist. Elsa's bare toes flexed against the wood of the stage. Immediately, Maren was reminded of the video she'd found on the internet. Elsa displayed the same enthusiasm for playing as she did for conducting and composing.

Her shoulders were relaxed. Her face was calm. It was hard for Maren to believe she ever thought her professor was strict and cold. At this moment, Elsa was completely at ease. Maren found the energy was contagious and she began to grin.

The way Elsa's hand worked the bow and her fingers danced over the spine of the instrument, had Maren transfixed. Elsa Aren was easy on the eyes, sure… That, Maren had noticed, but seeing her like this…

_This was beautiful._

_Elsa was beautiful._ Her eyes glowed with an intoxicating light. They were wide and blue, and bursting with life. Her fair skin shone under the overhead lights, _a_ nd her lips pursed _as if waiting to be tasted_ -

_Wait, what?_

Maren's brows shot to her hairline. She'd been so distracted in her thoughts she hadn't noticed when Elsa stopped playing.

Elsa turned to her. The enthusiasm alive on her face immediately fell away. In its place was raw skepticism; she was clearly unhappy with Maren's staring.

"What?" Elsa harshly inquired.

"Nothing! I, uh-" Maren stammered, shaking her head. "I was just admiring you play…"

Elsa's jaw wavered in response. "Oh…" she allowed her brows to lower. "Well… it's an excellent score so far, Miss Nattura. I do look forward to hearing how you clean it up."

"Do you- do you have any suggestions?" Maren's face darkened under the heat of her request.

"I suppose I could, but-" Elsa paused.

She turned from her student as she slipped the cello back into its case. Elsa took the laptop back in her hands and set it in front of Maren.

"I imagine you have an adviser for that. I wouldn't want to step on their toes."

Maren's blush spread. It washed the length of her neck and buried beneath the collar of her plain white t-shirt. She watched Elsa spin to return to the stage.

"I hear you," Maren called out quickly, causing Elsa to stop in her steps. "-but... hearing your opinion would be greatly appreciated."

Elsa turned back to Maren. She kept her expression unreadable and her eyes low.

"I'd, um, also like to apologize for the way I acted yesterday." Maren's eyes dropped to the keyboard, "Though I was upset about what you had to say, I realize now that you were right… I was so eager to share my own selection that I forgot to participate in the other discussions. I was hoping I might be able to impress you by using Richter, and so I was more judgemental of the other students and their selections than I intended to be."

Brow flickering, Elsa's shoulders curled toward her ears. Her jaw tipped soundlessly, "Impress me?"

The words came out barely above a whisper. Maren almost missed what Elsa had said. Shrugging, her head lifted and tilted to the side.

"I admire you," Maren's eyes circled the ceiling. "-your achievements, that is… I was hoping to select a song that would excite you or start a more enthusiastic conversation with the class."

"I see," Elsa's back straightened. "-and I assume I killed any chance of that with my harsh response?"

Maren's attention slowly fell back to Elsa. "It's my fault... I was being selfish and I don't blame you for being harsh with me."

"I'll admit," Elsa's voice lifted, its usual strict tone fading away. "I do like Richter."

Maren's jaw dropped. Elsa smirked, turning her back on Maren, and any further commentary was cut off as the first student entered the hall.

With her heels, Elsa returned to the podium. She leafed through her bag while Maren prepared her books for the lecture.

"Send your score to my school email, Miss Nattura."

Maren's head snapped to attention.

Elsa's head was still buried into her bag, her eyes carefully averted. "I'd be happy to share my thoughts with you."

* * *

_Cheers,_

_M._


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG HUGE THANKS TO SUPERAMY777 (per usual). I love you BIG TIME.

_**And Silence Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

**As soon as Maren walked into her apartment, she sent Dr. Aren her dissertation.** She was still wearing her backpack while she refreshed her screen two dozen times. The next day, she returned to school as early as she had on Thursday. Dr. Aren arrived on time. She said nothing about Maren's score, and so Friday night was spent in front of her computer as well.

It wasn't until her brother and roommate, Ryder, returned from vacation that Maren was pulled away from her email.

"Why are we doing this again?" She grumbled.

Maren stepped back to examine her appearance in the full-length mirror behind her door. With Ryder's encouragement, her makeup was a tad darker than she usually wore it. Loose brown curls hung at her shoulders. A pair of high waisted jean shorts tightened with a belt around Maren's hips. She had a loose-fitting t-shirt on and her casual sneakers. It wasn't exactly a going-out outfit, but it was the best Maren could throw together.

"-because we're getting pissed!" Ryder explained to her. "I've been stuck back in Northuldra with Yelena and the others for three weeks. I've gone over five hundred hours without dancing and city lights, so we're going out!"

Shoulders slumping, Maren turned from the mirror. "Fine," she drawled.

Maren wouldn't admit it aloud, mainly to spare herself from Ryder's teasing, but she could use the escape as well. Some attention from strangers would be a good ego boost. For the last three weeks while her brother was away, Maren had slaved over her dissertation. Since Scoring for Strings began, she'd done nothing but read textbooks.

"Let me grab a hat, then we'll go."

She hurried to her closet. Maren eyed Ryder's impatient foot-tapping in the window's reflection as she pulled open the door.

"You're wasting time!" He shouted eagerly, "You've already got the looks in this family! Why hide them?"

Maren slipped the baseball cap over her head. "Gotta hold off the straight men," she mocked with a wink.

Ryder rolled his eyes. "Who cares- let them ogle you! You already fit their wildest day dreams anyway."

"If only women saw me that way," Maren approached the exit. "Perhaps if you tried the fairer sex and I went straight, we might actually land a taker or two?"

Appearing disturbed by her request, Ryder yanked Maren forward roughly by the arm. "I do fine, thank you… and women see you exactly the way you want them to, Mare."

Ryder directed her from the room and into the barren hall.

"You just don't acknowledge their interest because you're too focused on getting the hell out of here, and I don't know why… Central City is so much cooler than Northuldra."

Maren glowered, "I'm not sure I appreciate your commentary, bro…"

Ryder ignored his sister's grumbling and effectively pulled her out into the night.

* * *

A short subway ride later, the two siblings were surrounded by flashing lights. The steady, methodical sound of heavy bass vibrated beneath their feet. Where Ryder had disappeared to, Maren didn't know. It wasn't unlike her brother to be swept away by the thrill of a packed dance floor. Instead, Maren made a home for herself at the bar. She absorbed her time with whatever was on tap and made polite conversation with her favorite mixologist, Killian.

Maren was used to this routine. She and Ryder would show up at one of his favorite lgbtq+ friendly bars. A half hour in, Ryder would disappear, and Maren would be left to her own devices. If she were lucky, she'd find someone to make conversation with at the bar. They might dance and have a good time, but then Maren would return home alone; per usual.

That was the trouble with gay bars. All the men were gay, and ninty percent of the women were straight. Not that Maren blamed them for spending their time here. She'd been to her fair share of straight bars. Men grappled onto her hips like they were rock climbing. They seldom took no for an answer. If she were straight, she'd be hiding out here, too.

"How's school going?" Maren's eyes turned up from her beer as Killian leaned over the bar top. He scrubbed a serving glass dry while making eyes at some hopeless fool over her shoulder.

"Same old, same old- almost done, though. That's the good news."

Killian smiled at her politely. He slid another beer her way before she could protest it. "I take it you're returning home soon, then?"

"Yeah, but don't you worry your pretty little head," Maren teased. "Ryder's still staying in CC."

His cheeks darkened, but he rolled his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about…"

Maren watched Killian walk away to the other side of the bar. She laughed to herself, shaking her head before finishing off the first glass.

A woman with red hair slid in at the bar beside her. Maren eyed her skeptically. Flannel, converse- check, check, and… another woman stepped in at her back. Taller and tanner than the red head, she placed a hand on her back. They leaned over the bar to place their order.

Sighing, Maren turned around to the dance floor.

It wasn't that she wanted to take anyone home with her. Like Ryder said, Maren was far too busy to start something with some stranger. Not to mention, she was also due to leave soon. Call her old school, but Maren didn't have the heart to chew and screw some poor CC lesbian.

She did enjoy the attention, however, and it had been quite some time since Maren had received anything of the sort.

The couple beside her walked away. They moved toward the tables in the far back. Maren kept her eyes diverted, watching the dance floor move like a sea of waves. Even as someone stepped in, taking the couple's place, Maren remained distracted.

"Why is it so difficult to get a drink here?"

At the sound of the woman's voice, Maren's back went rigid. Her spine drew impossibly straight. She knew that voice, as clear as day. Slowly, she turned in her stool, coming to face the speaker.

"Dr. Aren?"

Elsa's head rotated in much the same manner. Her blue eyes boggled, but the rest of her face held strict. "Miss Nattura…"

Hearing the slight break in Elsa's voice caused Maren to smile. "Perhaps we drop the formalities… just this once?" Maren requested.

She lifted her hand and waved Killian over. He grinned as he approached. Maren didn't miss how he looked between the two of them coyly.

"How can I help you fine young ladies?" Killian teased.

Maren nudged her shoulder toward Elsa. "This one… needs a drink."

"Gin please," Elsa requested. "-with seltzer, and none of that endless shelf-life liquid, please. I'll take the Botanist, if you have it- or Hendricks in the worst case…"

Smirking, Killian nodded. He flashed Maren a quick wink before turning away. She said nothing as Elsa slid into the seat beside her. Her hands raised and folded politely over the bartop, still keeping her eyes held away from Maren.

"So…" Maren sang. "Do you come here often?"

Elsa sighed. She turned her head only slightly to the side. "No, Miss Nattura, I don't."

Maren frowned, ready to correct her.

"I'm sorry… Maren…"

She didn't comment. Maren appreciated Elsa's attempt at casual, even if it wasn't quite natural. "Well, if you're not a regular, what brings you here?"

Killian returned just in time with Elsa's drink. He slid it across the bar to her. Elsa extended a twenty in her hand and told Killian to keep it. She had her back to him in no time. Elsa was now facing the dance floor like Maren had when she appeared.

Elsa didn't miss the way Maren's eyes were watching her as she gracefully sipped her drink. She ignored Maren's question a moment longer, feeling the gin warm her at her waist.

"My sister," Elsa finally began. "She's been adamant about getting me here since I returned home."

"I imagine your sister and my brother would get along swimmingly, then… This isn't exactly my scene either."

"No?" Elsa's brow arched. She leaned back against the bar. "What is your scene?"

Maren shrugged. Her eyes circled the ceiling. "Oh, I don't know… I like the feminine variety here, but I prefer good conversation over dancing."

Her comment appeared to have Elsa taken aback. She smirked, staring down into the depths of her drink. "I'd say we have both those statements in common, Miss Nattura."

And she left it at that.

Elsa strutted from the bar like a woman on a mission. She held her drink idly at her hip. The tight black dress she wore hugged to every inch of unseen skin. Elsa slid between bodies swaying on the dance floor, but only disappeared from sight after flashing Maren one last glance over her bare shoulder.

Bottom jaw lost somewhere in the neighborhood of her feet, Maren stared after her. When her teeth clacked back together, she grit them hard behind her lips. She knew her professor was attractive- that was undeniable, but gay…

That was new information, and currently all Maren could think about.

The image of Dr. Aren in her sleeveless black romper grew tighter in her mind. The confident pout of Elsa's lips, the way her steady fingers worked the neck of the cello, her strong hand delicately caressing the bow… In an instant, everything, every image Maren had of Elsa in her mind, became all the more was baffled once more. It was evident, now, that the fair-skinned doctor would always have that effect on her.

Maren's evening became all the more interesting at that moment.

She quickly downed her beverage and left the glass empty on top of the bar. Maren made her way toward the dance floor on eager feet. The company of dancers was irrelevant. What mattered was capturing the attention of her very gay, and very attractive, strings professor. Maren would stop at nothing until she had it; if nothing else, at least for the night.

Maren dodged between couples on the dance floor. She spotted her brother amidst a full rave with a group of men. He didn't see her, and that was for the best. If she wanted her plan to work, she needed only the _right_ type of distractions.

Making a home for herself between a group of dancers at the front, Maren positioned herself along the stage. She stood directly in front of the DJ's station. Her hands lifted overhead. Slowly, she began to sway.

Maren had never been exceptionally great at dancing, but she did understand music. Her body knew how to react to each rise and fall of bass. Maren wouldn't call it dancing; conducting was more like it. Just as Elsa had done in the video, Maren called the beat with methodical hands. Her hips sashayed from side to eloquent side.

Hands suction to her hips. When Maren turned she was surprised to find the redhead from earlier and her partner luring her into a dance. Eagerly, she turned to them, accepting their arms around her. It wasn't the pretty face of either woman that was important. It was the heat between their legs; their sex. Their hands and features were feminine and soft. Arms raised, she allowed them to drape over the redhead while her partner slipped in at Maren's rear.

On any other evening, Maren might have been enticed to spend some time here, but tonight- she had a far more significant feast in mind.

As the song changed to something substantially more stimulating, so did their dancing. Loose hair, whether hers or theirs, blocked Maren's sight. It was impossible to know if her ploy was working, but she made every movement excessive, alluring.

The woman slid from her back and took the redhead's hips in her hands. They stayed together like that. Maren's arms lifted slowly above their heads, sweaty fingers tangling into her own brown curls. She executed each movement carefully. Maren was calling Elsa back with the careful stroke of her hands as if conducting the room around her.

Maren could only hope Elsa was watching…

The redhead had her spinning around. Arms wrapped posessively around Maren's waist, the partner's hands claimed her shoulders. The couple latched onto her, but she didn't mind. Maren dragged her fingers through her hair and looked up. When she did, Maren caught the eyes of the woman she'd been desperate to find.

From across the room, those blue irises burned into hers. Maren smirked. Elsa sipped confidently at the stirring straw in her drink as she leaned against the corner of the stage. Her head slowly shook, but with amusement or distaste, Maren couldn't be certain.

Seeing she finally had Elsa's attention, Maren allowed her head to tip back onto the redhead's shoulder. The arms tightened around her waist. Maren was caught in the dancers' hold, feeling her shirt riding up her torso. Tan skin exposed to the thick and humid air, and Maren shivered.

Her own hand slowly raised, trailing the length of the redhead's neck and arm. Both dancers responded eagerly. Maren was tugged impossibly tighter as hips circled into her rear. A steady burst of heat burned between them, and Maren's knees buckled.

In that brief moment of distraction, Maren forgot where she was and what her plan had been. She was turning herself around in the dancers' arms. She was pushing against the chest of the redhead, willing to lose herself into their dance, when a dominant hand tugged roughly at her shoulder.

"May I cut in?"

Maren, breathless and disoriented, turned her eyes over her shoulder. Elsa was standing there. She bit down at the fair skin of her bottom lip as she considered her

"I didn't know it was in your job description to dance with students, Dr. Aren…" Maren's hand was still hot on the redhead's arm in a possessive display of affection.

"I just want a quick word." Elsa curled her finger, calling Maren to follow.

That was all she needed to see. Maren spun from the other women's arms and hurried after Elsa.

She stopped at the corner of the stage where she'd been watching Maren dance. When Elsa turned back, her blue eyes had grown dark. Her expression was blank. Before Maren could react, Elsa's hand slid in behind her neck. She dragged her forward slowly, lips hovering before, but not touching Maren's ear.

"I see what you're doing," Elsa's words were sharp.

Maren couldn't bring herself to respond. She tried to swallow, but her throat was uncomfortably dry.

"This can't and _won't_ happen. Do you understand?" Elsa pulled back far enough for Maren to see her brows lower. "I am your professor. You are my student-"

"For now," Maren smirked.

Something frightening rippled across Elsa's expression. Her eyes flickered briefly before they turned cold once more.

"Don't presume to know me, Miss Nattura. If you think this is some sort of game, you'll be sorry when you lose." Elsa pulled away from her entirely. Her arms sternly crossed. "Either way, see you in school."

As quickly as Elsa was there, she was gone. Maren had to blink to clear the daze. When her vision returned, Elsa was out of sight. All that was left was the racing of Maren's heartbeat and the uncomfortable heat on her skin.

* * *

_Cheers,_

_M._


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's about one-thousand unintentionally dirty lines in this chapter. I picked up on none of them... and I wrote it. They've all been left for your enjoyment, and because superamy777 wouldn't let me delete them.

_**And Silences Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

**Sunday brought headaches and fatigue.** Elsa's words still lingered in Maren's ears, " _This can't and won't happen…"_

She had spent the remainder of her evening tempering her frustrations with alcohol. Maren stationed herself bitterly at the bar until the flashing lights signalled last call. Her brother had disappeared without her, but that wasn't unusual. He often ran off with his friends to some after-hours location. Maren was left to walk the long mile and a half back to her apartment alone, hoping the fresh air would help her shake the internal heat.

Laying in bed long into the afternoon, Maren considered what she'd expected from Elsa Aren. In less than three months, Maren would be back in England. Her years at the Ahtohallan School would be behind her; as would all the friends she'd made along the way. Nothing could or should happen between her and her new professor. Not only was Elsa vehemently against it, but Maren had no business making emotional ties.

So, what had she wanted? Maren was no longer sure. Was it the satisfaction of being allowed to see that carefree side of Elsa Maren knew only existed through music? Or was she simply attracted to her?

The latter went without saying of course, but it wasn't enough to have Maren ignoring her priorities.

Now, during the afternoon hours of the same day, she was soothing the dull ache in her brain with water and layers of heavy blankets. Every attempt Maren made to leave the bed came with a wave of nausea. Her embarrassment lingered as uncomfortably as the hangover. Her plan was to live in bed for the remainder of the weekend, or until she could bring herself to stand. She'd survive off Netflix and the gallon jug of water she had curled herself around.

And her plan had gone swimmingly thus far.

It wasn't until the ear-piercing tone on her phone rattled Maren alert that she was dragged back into reality.

Twisting onto her side, Maren fought the mountain of blankets to extract her hand. She hung limply off the bed as she fished around the floor for her phone. Her fingers caught the edge of the screen and she tapped the center button. A notification popped up, making her brown eyes pop wide.

_A new email._

Maren began to sweat…

From the one and only _, Dr. Aren._

Maren pulled the phone between two hands and turned back into the pillows. Her thumb shook as she clicked on the app.

-

Good Afternoon, Miss. Nattura:

I do hope you are feeling well today.

I spent the morning fine-combing your composition and I've compiled a series of notes to go with my critiques. Perhaps you have time to discuss them during my office hours tomorrow morning? If not, take a look at my schedule and tell me what works best for you.

Respectfully,

Dr. Elsa Aren.

-

Maren blinked. She blinked again.

For the last fifteen hours she'd thought of nothing other than Elsa's voice in her ears - her anger and the fear in her tone. Her beauty while performing warmed Maren's waist, but Elsa's words had her frightened. Yet despite all the ways Maren had upset Elsa, she still wanted to see her. Bright and early on a Monday morning, Elsa wanted Maren in her office...just the two of them… _alone_.

Maren's nausea surged.

There was so much more to this young professor than she could have imagined. The stern facade was merely a cover up for what must have been a soft and caring heart. That side of Elsa grew evident everytime Maren saw her seated in front of her cello or up on the stage.

What drove her to be so cold? What life experiences had Dr. Aren covering up her excitement and musical magic to take the role of unfeeling and disinterested strings professor?

Learning this about Elsa would be the ultimate graduation gift. If only Maren could convince Elsa to let her in.

Eyes wide, Maren quickly shook her head. Now was not the time to be fawning over such an idea. Maren knew better. Finishing her dissertation and master's took full priority this summer. Getting involved in Dr. Aren's personal life would only pull her head further out of the game.

Still, Maren couldn't help the eager feeling bubbling in her chest. Tomorrow morning she'd be seeing Elsa again.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Fingers tapped methodically against the keyboard. Her mind was elsewhere. The paper on the screen in front of Elsa held little interest for her.

The entirety of her weekend had been spent hiding from the outside world. She knew now that the brief two hour excursion to the club had been a mistake. Elsa had agreed to it, hoping to shake Anna off her back. Her sister was relentless in her attempts to get Elsa out of the apartment and into a woman's bed. She thought the one-time agreement to join her would be enough to get Anna to stop her pestering, but Elsa should've known her sister better than that.

It wasn't the nightclub that had Elsa's thoughts transported elsewhere, however. It was the young woman she'd _barely_ kept herself from dancing with, consequences be damned.

Maren Nattura- the first student to captivate her here at Ahtohallan School.

When Elsa walked in on that first day with the full intention of making her class cower, Maren had all but halted her in her pursuit. Those wide brown eyes stared back at her. Like pools of honey and cinnamon, they melted Elsa hot in her footsteps across the stage. She didn't remember what she did next. Elsa made it to the podium somehow, but with a weight in her chest that had her breathing heavily.

Still, she refused to allow Maren to have the upper hand. Elsa refused everyone the upper hand.

She'd been down this road before.

Her father and grandfather weren't necessarily comfortable with her sexuality, nor were they accepting of her past selection of partners, and rightfully so. Elsa didn't have the best track record. There was the brief stint with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and the newest hit against her academic record back in Switzerland.

Needless to say, Elsa hadn't led with a clear head when it came to romantic partnership. Her family's dislike for her orientation had her living in a land of convenience and secrecy. Neither made for anything resembling functional, of course, and it had backfired in more than one way.

Because of this, Elsa was determined to keep her slate at Ahtohallan School clean. She nipped her fascination with Maren Nattura in the bud two evenings prior, making certain mutual attraction would be impossible. She geared her focus on teaching. Elsa forced the heat rising from the memory of those brown eyes from her mind.

And perhaps that's why she'd been so hard on Maren... perhaps that was why Elsa invited her here today.

At that thought, a knock sounded at the door. Elsa glanced at the clock above her head with a frown. Her morning came to a crashing halt, as did her thoughts. Blue eyes traveled to the door and she cleared her throat.

"It's open," she greeted sternly.

There was a hesitancy as delicate fingers turned the handle. Maren's very curly brown head poked into the small office, and Elsa immediately felt like screaming out of frustration.

"Miss Nattura… I see you received my email…and are evidently feeling better, aren't you?" She hummed. Elsa spun back to her computer with a dominant snap of her head.

"I did, and I do, thanks. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Am I? I can always come back later in the week, if that's more convenient for you?"

Elsa turned over her shoulder. She regarded Maren with a slow-moving stare, her lips slightly curling. "Don't be silly. You're here now. I'll be with you in a moment, help yourself to a seat."

Maren's back was tight as she lowered herself into the chair across from Elsa's desk. She kept her hands wrung in her lap and her messenger bag heavy over her shoulder. Maren worried her teeth against the skin of her inner cheek. Her gaze stilled upon the wooden floorboards as she waited for the professor to finish.

When Maren's eyes lowered, Elsa turned quietly in her seat. Maren was unaware of her staring. Elsa allowed her attention to filter over the younger woman as she took in her appearance.

Maren was wearing a pair of green capris, a white button-up belted and tucked into the waistband. Her hair was loose and plainly styled, held back by a white bandana. Yet while her style of dress was often simple, Maren's face was something out of a fairy tale. Her skin was smooth and tan. She had a soft button nose, large brown eyes, and a grin that stopped hearts.

Maren felt Elsa's stare and looked up. She caught the ice blue eyes in their ascent up her body, causing Dr. Aren to flinch.

"Let's get down to it then, shall we?" Elsa announced.

She pulled a file folder from her desk drawer. Elsa slid her chair across the floor boards as she opened the file in her lap. Stopping beside Maren, she tilted the printed score towards her.

"This percussion minuet," Elsa began. "-it has to go. It's chaotic at best, and I'm afraid you'll lose points for this transition."

"Wow," Maren blinked. Her mouth fell agape. "All of it? Really?"

Elsa pursed her lips and simply nodded. "Unless you see something worth salvaging, Miss Nattura. I certainly don't."

Dragging in a sharp breath, Maren shrank lower in her seat.

"Let's continue with the allegro," Elsa pointed. "It's evident you began writing your score from the end, and I have to say, that's often not the most intelligent course of action. Your use of woodwind instruments following the adagio overpowers the strings and the piano. It plays a little like you're attempting to sell your set based on fortissimo rather than a well-adjusted score. Remember, Miss Nattura, it's not always about the climax. A composer's worth lies solely in their set of the stage, not in the auditory painting of their rise to the summit of a mountain… I imagine you'll find your score will come together much more cleanly if you redraft these two sets."

The folder was placed into Maren's hands. She stared down blankly at the notes outlined in blue pen and thumbed through the separate scores.

"Wow…" she breathed again. "This is, um, a lot of notes… more than I anticipated…"

"Well, you did ask for my opinion. The least I could do was be thorough in my delivery."

Maren's eyes raised to Elsa's. She appeared dissatisfied with Maren, to say the least.

"These compositions… they took months to draft…" Maren explained quietly, dropping her attention to her hands. "I'm not sure there's enough time before the concert to redraft two movements for six separate instruments."

"This is your dissertation we are discussing, correct?" The statement was meant rhetorically, but Maren nodded anyway. "This performance will be the most significant experience in your academic career, Miss Nattura. I suggest you _make_ time to perfect it."

There was something about Elsa's tone- something sharp and condescending. Maren found herself snapping the folder shut at Elsa's words and shaking her head.

"You know, I wasn't sure at first, but now I am certain… You really have it out for me, don't you?"

Elsa's angered mouth tipped to reply, but Maren surged forward.

"I've been meeting with Dr. Hammond for over a year about this piece! Never once did he express any of this. You're needlessly picking apart my score just for the hell of it, and it's not at all appreciated!" Maren's arms folded over her chest. "You think too highly of yourself and your opinions, Elsa Aren."

"I prefer _Dr_. Aren in professional environments, but I'm certain you already know that."

"My mistake," Maren's eyelashes fluttered in a most condescending fashion. "-but I'm afraid, based on your blatant and inappropriate dislike for me, I hadn't realized this was the office of a professional."

Elsa's lips parted in shock and then closed again. Her jaw set so firmly, Maren thought it possible to slice steel sheets against Elsa's protruding cheekbones.

"It appears it's time for you to go, Miss Nattura. I hope you understand that none of my commentary about your score was meant as a personal vendetta, and I wish you the very best with your performance. Oh," Elsa smiled softly. "-and I do look forward to seeing you in class later this afternoon."

Before Maren could respond, Elsa spun back to her desk. Her legs tucked and crossed beneath the wood and her shoulders stretched wide.

Maren left before anything further could be said. She imagined it was safer that way.

* * *

Nearly three hours later, however, Maren felt anything but safe.

She slid into the lecture hall with only seconds to spare. The rest of the students were seated with their eyes drawn toward the front. As she slid down the front row, she could feel Elsa's stare hot on her back. Maren wouldn't give her the satisfaction of meeting her glance. Instead, she dropped into her seat with a barely audible huff. Maren pulled out her notebook and leaned back against her chair.

They were discussing the second textbook today; the one Maren had already finished front to back in preparation. Fortunately though, Dr. Aren was leading a rather lecture-heavy class. She refrained from starting side conversations with her students and stuck strictly to the text. Ludovico's Experience was brought up in context, but Elsa didn't even pause her lecture to allow the song to play.

It wasn't until near the end of class that Maren felt like interjecting, either.

"Your final project,"

All twenty-three heads snapped to attention. Elsa's blue eyes panned across the room, settling briefly on Maren's face and causing her to grimace.

When Elsa looked away, she continued, "As you know, I decided to maintain Professor Agnarr's directive for the class with one minor adjustment."

The student's shoulders curled protectively into their chests.

"A school of this standing should have graduation expectations far exceeding the scoring for one instrument… For your final project, I am requiring two."

The weight of her teeth on the tip of Maren's tongue was enough to draw blood. She would not be made a fool by this woman again.

Maren could overlook the Richter debacle. She could easily brush off their conversation at the nightclub. Maren could even disregard their unfortunate meeting from earlier that morning, but that is where this charade would stop.

Her hand raised.

Elsa regarded Maren slowly. Her eyes lowered. "Miss Nattura?"

"Do you have a preference on chord usage, Dr. Aren?"

Elsa's mouth wavered as she considered her response, and Maren narrowly missed the surprised flicker in her hesitant blue eyes.

"I suppose I will leave that up to my composers," she answered quickly. "Is there anything else you wish to ask?"

Maren smiled coyly. She shook her head, "Nope, I believe you cleared everything up. Thank you, Dr. Aren."

With swiftness, Dr. Aren opened the floor to questions from the rest of the class. Elsa was immediately thankful for the distraction.

Following the end of their time period, Elsa watched Maren leave the room from behind folded arms and lowered eyes. Maren chatted comically with Miguel, tossing an arm around his shoulder as they disappeared from sight.

* * *

_Cheers,_

_M._


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole bunch of love to SuperAmy777 for putting up with my shit, as always. I know I'm always working on twelve projects at the same time, but I super (like your name) appreciate you taking on my crazy time and time again.

_**And Silence Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Chapter Six**

* * *

**By the end of the second week of the semester, Elsa and Maren were at a standoff.** Their conversations had taken on a bit of an edge. Elsa was certain the other students would catch on soon, as Maren was always quick to play devil's advocate. She challenged Elsa with irritating questions and made statements for the sake of trying to rile her up. As a teacher, she was at her wit's end, but as a woman who liked women… Elsa was intrigued.

"Every class has one…"

Elsa's back went rigid as she collected her things from the stage. She took her bag over her shoulder before she slowly turned.

"Grandfather, hello… I wasn't aware you were visiting the campus today." Her arms protectively crossed over her chest.

"You can't fault an old man from checking in on his investments," Runeard snickered. "Regardless, it allowed me to catch the tail end of your lecture. Today's generation of students is nothing if not entitled- certainly made for a good laugh, however."

Runeard made his way down the aisle. Styled in his standard black suit, he looked decades younger than his seventy five years. He wouldn't look at his granddaughter as he approached. Instead, his low eyes scanned the stage.

"That being said, you shouldn't tolerate such insolence from a subordinate. What will the rest of your class think if you allow that student to speak to you in such a way?" His brow arched, and Elsa took a step back.

She recalled Maren's last words…

" _I thought this assignment was meant to challenge us more… Perhaps I can offer you some suggestions on how to improve your syllabus?"_

Elsa grimaced at the memory. She hadn't responded, but now, knowing her grandfather was listening, Elsa wished she had.

"The immaturity of one student will not hurt my good standing here. Besides, you know that I have no desire to teach long-term. There are nine months until the Spring auditions for Central City, and I fully intend to secure first chair… just as you expect from me."

Runeard's head tilted. He scratched his chin. "I do hope that works out for you… In the meantime, it's imperative you refrain from letting your students stomp all over you. You're an Aren, Elsa, and we're not like the others who walk these halls. We belong here, and it's time you start acting like it."

"I understand, Grandfather," Elsa stifled in a short breath. "I won't let you down-"

"-again," he sternly added.

Elsa merely nodded, "I won't let you down again."

Runeard smiled. He took his arm around Elsa's shoulders. "Good. Now, come. We'll do coffee together in the staff lounge."

As he walked forward, Elsa's feet stayed planted. She clasped her hands at her waist. "I wish I could," she forced a shrug. "Unfortunately, I've already made plans with my sister."

"Next Friday, then," his dark eyes grew narrow. "I'll meet you here after your class."

"That sounds perfect," Elsa feigned, and her lips curled at their ends as she guided him toward the door.

* * *

Despite the warm summer weather they'd been having in the city, the current evening brought with it a coastal chill. Both Anna and Elsa bundled tightly into their windbreakers as they hurried their way back through the residential district from downtown.

Anna had said nothing when her sister turned up at her work. She merely fell in step beside her and followed Elsa to her apartment. Being as close as they were, Anna knew something was wrong. More than likely it had to do with their family. No one else could prompt Elsa to sit outside of Anna's school, waiting in the cold for her work day to end.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She let her shoulder brush against Elsa's arm.

Her lips remained pinched and she shook her head, "I'd rather not."

Anna was silent for a time. She tried to hide her hands within her sleeves as she pulled distractedly at her fingers. Elsa held off as long as she could before Anna's fidgeting broke her trance, grating on her nerves.

"If you want to say something, just do it." Elsa sighed. Her shoulders uncomfortably lifted.

"It's nothing!" Anna promised, pushing her long strands of red hair behind her ears.

"I know you well enough to know better," Elsa fought back. "There's something on your mind- you're fidgeting!"

"Okay, okay!" She defended behind raised hands. "I'm sorry! I didn't know I was so transparent."

Elsa refused to acknowledge her apology as she picked up the pace. Anna raced to catch up.

"It's just- I'm worried about you…" She divulged.

"Worried about me?"

Anna nodded, "Yeah. You make me nervous. I'm worried that all the pressure Grandfather and Papa put on you will push you away, and you hardly let me in anymore! You keep everything bottled up… Why don't you talk to me like you used to, Elsa?"

"It's nothing," Elsa quickly decided. "There _is_ nothing. It's just a part of growing up, nothing more…"

Snorting, Anna turned her head. "I don't believe you… You hate teaching! It turns you into a bully! You have all these secrets from your adventures, and I only know what Papa tells me."

"I'm not a bully," Elsa huffed behind crossed arms.

"I said teaching turns you into a bully, not that you _are_ a bully, but listen… I care about you! Papa cares about you! It's okay to let your walls down sometimes, Elsa. You're safe with us."

Elsa was silent for a long minute. As much as she hadn't wanted to listen to her sister's ranting, Anna's words settled against the folds of her brain. She was right. _Anna was right_. Elsa was consistently pushing people away. Perhaps it was the many trials and errors of living up to her family's expectations, or the fear of disappointing them further. She'd become a shell of who she'd been as a child, and now everyone around her was suffering the consequences.

"Did something happen at work today?" Anna broke Elsa from her chain of spiralling thoughts.

She sighed and nodded. "Grandfather came to visit me after my class; _checking on his investments_ , he called it…"

"-and by investments he means you, and not his shiny new instrumental engineering building he just purchased for them…"

Elsa laughed. Weight lifted from her chest at the sound. "But of course. A building has no faults."

Anna's amusement stifled immediately, "I see."

Humming, Elsa shrugged. "There's another issue as well."

"Oh?" Anna's blue eyes brightened as she was let further in. "-with Grandfather?"

Elsa shook her head. "Not quite… There's a student… and she's been particularly difficult lately. I'm afraid I have no choice but to talk to her about it."

"Yikes! Looks like it's time for the Ice Queen to come out and play," Anna teased.

"It's Snow Queen, thank you, and ouch- I told you that in confidence, not so you could use it against me…"

"I was kidding!" Anna promised, "Now continue… I swear, there'll be no more jokes from me."

Elsa tipped back her head as she reeled in a deep breath. "It really is nothing. She's just a girl; a student pushing my buttons-"

"You _like_ her!" Anna exclaimed.

"Hey! You promised no more jokes."

"That wasn't a joke." With a smirk, Anna's attention slowly slid toward her sister.

"I don't like her," Elsa defended sternly. "In fact, this student most likely hates me. I was worried about coming off too casually at a new school. I was harder on her in the beginning than I should have been, and now she's getting me back for it during our classes."

"You could always apologize?" Anna suggested. "Tell this student you regret being a pain, and then lay down the law?"

Elsa's lips pursed as she listened. "I'll consider it," Her eyes turned to her feet.

"You know your worth, Elsa," Anna continued. "You're not the student anymore. You're the teacher and you were trained by the best of the best! If anyone can rule a classroom, it's you. I know it."

Wishing she could share in Anna's enthusiasm, Elsa continued to look at the ground. She forced a smile as her sister suddenly brushed against her.

"Movie night?" Anna questioned with a grin. "You look like you could use a break from music for the evening."

Elsa's eyes finally returned. They were lighter in color. "That sounds perfect, actually…"

"Great!" Anna cheered happily. "There's a new rom-com on demand that I've been dying to see!"

Giggling, Elsa accepted her sister's hand and allowed herself to be tugged faster down the sidewalk.

* * *

Elsa wanted to stop the words before they left her lips that Monday afternoon. However, her grandfather's concerns rang true. It was time to face the music, so to speak. This was _her_ classroom, and she'd make certain it ran _her_ way. Elsa had a career to take back, and no one, not even a beautiful Northuldra transplant, had the power to keep her from doing so.

"Miss Nattura," Elsa watched Maren's smirk turn towards her as she headed for the door. "A word, if you will?"

Watching Maren's eyes roll to the back of her head, Elsa wanted to thank her. The sympathetic expression Miguel flashed her meant he held no suspicions about their non-relationship. Maren squeezed his shoulder with a brief hold before turning back towards the class.

Maren took a seat on top of one of the center tables in the front row. Elsa waited behind her own desk, watching as the other students made their exit. Only after they had, did Elsa cross the stage and close the door behind them.

"How can I help you, Dr. Aren?" Maren's cheeks lifted in a toothless grin.

Elsa reeled in a breath. She ascended the stage in long strides. Her back came to rest against the podium and she stationed herself directly across from Maren with her hands folded.

"You have permission to drop the facade now, Miss Nattura. You've made it abundantly clear that you're harboring hostilities toward me, but it's time that we talk this through... like adults."

Maren considered her briefly. Her brows lowered, squinting her brown eyes. She crossed her arms.

"Like adults?" Maren echoed with a sarcastic nod. "What is it that you would like to discuss, then?"

Elsa pulled the hair tie from her bun with a frustrated tug. Her blonde hair fell in gentle waves against her shoulders and she sighed.

"Maren," Elsa whispered with a surprising softness.

Upon hearing the tone Maren's eyes went wide.

"We have this, animus tension between us, and I'd very much like to quash it. I cannot continue to teach in this condition; a condition which, I will admit, I established with my treatment of you at the start of term. We need to table our resentment toward each other, and agree to move on."

Maren blinked, lips curling. Her hands slowly pulled back from her arms and rested against the desk behind her. "I'll admit, I'm relieved to hear you finally acknowledge your dislike for me."

Gritting her teeth, Elsa bit back her anger. "Despite what you've come to think of me, I was being generous with my commentary in regard to your dissertation. The rest of my behaviors were simply a product of making sure I maintained certain boundaries between me and my students."

"And the bar?" Maren tipped her brows domineeringly. "What would you chalk that up to?"

Elsa failed to hide the slip in her tone, " _Discretion_ , Miss Nattura. I _must_ insist."

She caught sight of Elsa's drastically darkening stare. Honeymaren gleamed, her eyes coyly circling the room. "I don't see anyone else here. Do you, Dr. Aren? I think it's safe to assume you can answer my question."

Elsa sighed. She dug the tips of her fingers into her forehead as she bit her lip. "To speak candidly, you challenged me on that first day in class, and I don't respond well to being tested. In the classroom, I find it irritating and disrespectful. I didn't want the other students to think they could do the same. When I saw you at the bar... that was a different situation entirely."

Maren's finger came to tap against her chin. "So what you're saying is, challenging you in the classroom is disrespectful... but in a _social_ setting, you find it attractive?"

Working hard to maintain her composure, Elsa spoke behind clenched teeth. "No, that's not what I-"

"I understand," Maren cut her off.

She looked to the floor and hid her sly grin. When her eyes returned, Elsa was still strict in her stare.

"Is that all, Dr. Aren?"

"No, I-" Elsa frowned, pausing and taking a deep breath. "I still need to know that you will be respectful during our class periods together. I agree to put our differences aside so we can move forward."

Maren leapt down from the table. "I can do that," she nodded shortly. "I can promise to... _behave_... in here that is."

"Thank you, that's all I-"

"-but I make no promises for how I decide to treat you outside of this room." Maren started for the door.

"Wait, I-" Elsa choked on her words, and Maren spun back to face her.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Aren?"

Part of Elsa wanted to scare the confident look off Maren's face. The other part, the least functional, wanted to hold Maren down by her shoulders and have her way with her right then and there-

_Wait, what?_

Elsa blinked, shaking her head. "I really should insist that we keep all matters between us as professional as humanly possible."

"Yes," Maren nodded plainly. "You should... But now, if I may… I'm starting to get the impression that you're not interested in being professional with me… "

Elsa white knuckled the podium. "Whatever you're insinuating, I'm going to ask that you put it to rest."

"Don't you worry, Elsa," Maren whispered, her bag swinging playfully at her hip as she made her way toward the door. "I heard you… This _can't_ and _won't_ happen, remember?"

And with that, Maren escaped the room, leaving Elsa baffled and wide-eyed in her cheerful wake.

* * *

_Cheers,_

_M._


	7. Chapter Seven

_**And Silence Comes** _

M. Lauren

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

_**Confidence is key, Maren reminded herself as she crossed the urban campus.**_ It had been just under forty-eight hours since her last conversation with Dr. Aren. They'd left things on a... _complicated_ note, but Maren fully intended to heed her professor's wishes. She would be a perfectly respectable student in class. She would complete her assignments, participate in discussions, and behave the way any master's student should; explicitly as she was asked to.

Yet, she was no longer capable of hiding her blatant interest in the woman. Maren had been frustrated with Elsa initially, sure. The doctor irritated her to no end. That was certain, but there was something about Elsa's demeanor that had the student captivated. There was something she kept hidden, locked behind a regal facade.

The way Elsa's eyes raised and lowered, her voice, thick with command. Maren was bewitched by her artistic ability, willingly. She was enthralled with the two personalities battling within Elsa on and off the stage.

Elsa had worked her way into her gay, vulnerable mind, and Maren was no longer willing to take the high road.

In fact, she was positively against it.

Maren arrived early to class that third Wednesday. She was the first to arrive, exactly as she'd planned. She held the hope that Elsa would show up early as well. The last time they'd been in this position had been the first time Maren allowed her priorities to falter. She had stared easily as Elsa floated around the classroom, hands moving to her own score.

Maren craved the view of Elsa working her bow across her cello. The Youtube video wasn't cutting it anymore. She'd rewatched it on the internet almost three dozen times; just one more time to see her enthusiasm, one more time to see her dance. Maren was enthralled, and the worst part was... it didn't even frighten her anymore. She accepted all the emotions Elsa instilled in her, happily.

There were only six more weeks remaining before graduation, though.

At the end of term, she'd be back on a one-way flight to England. Maren would be leaving Elsa and her stubborn ways behind. But, despite her imminent departure, Maren had made a deal with herself. Third on her to-do list - after both her dissertation and her final Scoring for Strings assignment - she was committed to landing a date with her professor. Hell, she'd even settle for some lip action.

Then Maren could return home with no regrets.

Convince Dr. Aren to open up around her, go on a date, and return home for good.

It was the perfect plan.

Startling her from her thoughts, the click of heels approached from the hall. Maren sat up a little taller in her seat. Her eyes fixed to the door. It was a long few seconds before a head of too-blonde hair strutted into the room.

Maren wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. The woman had beautiful hair; the most beautiful she'd ever seen. Today it was down. It was voluminous and radiant. Oh, what wouldn't she give to run her fingers through each and every individual strand…

If only she hadn't been so daft at the club, Maren might have tried.

"Dr. Aren," she greeted as Elsa entered the room.

Elsa regarded her with a slow shift of her blue eyes. "Miss Nattura, you're looking cheerful today."

_Cheerful, eager; same thing,_ Maren thought.

She scanned the woman before her. Elsa's red lacquered legs were crossed. A single foot tipped and pointed into the floor. Elsa hadn't worn jeans since the second week of classes, but the pencil skirts were a close second. Maren loved the way they stopped at her knee. With every step the fabric stretched, exposing a slight glimpse of pale thigh.

Perhaps she'd planned it that way.

"You know," Maren hummed. "I thought red was your color, but now I'm thinking I might be wrong." She tapped her chin and turned her stare toward the ceiling. "No, I definitely think I'm Team Elsa-in-Blue now."

Elsa drew in a sharp breath through her nose. Her hands smoothed over the front of her frilled blouse. "How... _kind_ of you to say, Miss Nattura."

Their eyes locked briefly and she surprised Maren by crossing the room.

Maren kept her gaze carefully averted as Elsa approached. She was intently staring at the fire safety poster on the wall when a carefully-placed cheek slid in to brush against her own. Blocked by the waterfall of loose blonde hair on Maren's shoulder, Elsa's voice surfaced near her ear.

"I would consider _this_ a... professional environment." She whispered, making certain her warm breath descended Maren's neck. "Jeg vet hva du gjør, Miss Nattura, and I believe you're out of your league."

When she withdrew from Maren's side, Elsa fought the smirk pulling at her lips. Maren had paled. Her brown eyes glazed. She blinked to right her vision and then flashed Elsa a wicked grin.

"Jeg planla det på den måten, lege." Her chin came to rest against her folded hands. "Oh, did I forget to mention... I learned Norwegian in college."

Elsa fumbled. She nonchalantly caught her hands against the desk behind her, keeping herself from falling over. Elsa's voice trapped in her throat. Her reservations regarding Maren were quickly dissipating. She felt her shield falter.

Blinking wildly, Elsa turned from Maren and crossed back to the podium.

"Something wrong?" Maren sang.

Elsa blatantly ignored her. The two spent the remaining ten minutes eyeing each other silently over the backs of their computers.

* * *

It was late on that same Wednesday evening.

Elsa was tucked into the arm of her couch with a glass of wine in hand. Her face was solemn, her hair, mussed. She hadn't been the best company for her sister tonight, but her mind was elsewhere - uncomfortably distracted by the thought of a certain persistent student.

Anna was in the middle of a forty-minute rant about one of her more challenging teacher's aides. Elsa had made a dutiful attempt at feigning attention. After the first twenty minutes, however, her thoughts wandered. Anna hadn't seemed to notice, though. She continued with her rant until she finished and realized Elsa's eyes were glued to the floor.

"Okay..." Anna knowingly hummed. "What's going on?"

Elsa's face snapped up attentively and she frowned. Lines raced through her forehead in confusion.

"You're not listening to me, and don't lie and say you are," she scolded, raising a pointed finger. "Now, tell me. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Elsa easily promised. She shrugged. "I'm perfect. Work's perfect- there's nothing new."

Anna's brow knowingly tipped toward her, and Elsa sucked in a sigh.

"Fine! It's my student!" she grumbled.

Anna leaned forward on the ottoman. Her elbows pressed into her knees. "The annoying one? The button pusher?"

"For the sake of sparing an argument here, yes; the button pusher..." Elsa raised the brim of the wine glass to her lips and took a delicate sip.

"I see," Anna nodded. "-and what might be the problem with said student now?"

Her shoulders rose again, and Elsa dropped her eyes to the carpet. "I did as you told me to. I apologized. I set boundaries with Maren, and it backfired in my face."

"How so?" Anna asked, not trying to hide her excitement at all.

Anna's question had Elsa lifting her head to meet her sister's stare. "She's been persistent, _Maren_." She started at a mere whisper. "I believe, for the first time, I've found someone more two-faced than I am. She behaved fine in class, but beforehand... she's playing a game with me."

"Beforehand?" Anna smirked. "You mean you were alone with your student _before_ class started?"

"She shows up early! That's hardly something I can control..."

"-but so do you, _apparently…_ " Anna's lips stretched further.

Silently grumbling, Elsa crossed her arms. "Listen, I haven't been completely honest about our history. Initially, I had full intentions to keep it professional with Maren... but then we met at the nightclub the evening you dragged me there-"

"-and here I thought you were doing me a favor!" Anna lowered her eyes in mock anger; blue irises still radiating with curiosity.

"It wasn't planned," Elsa continued. "It was completely by chance. We'd only just met that week, but the next thing I knew, she was divulging that she was gay, and I tried to walk away- believe me Anna... I told her nothing could happen between us, but now… I'm afraid I may have only enticed her further."

"Well, have you looked at yourself?" Anna teased. She ribbed Elsa with her elbow.

"I put an end to it on Monday. I did." Elsa knocked back the rest of her wine before setting the empty glass at her feet. "I told her the way she was behaving was unacceptable and that we needed to put our differences behind us."

"Elsa, listen," Anna placed a hand on her sister's knee. "These don't sound like differences to me... I think you both might hold a certain level of... _attraction_ for each other, and there's no reason you can't at least acknowledge it..."

Elsa's head dropped to the back of the couch. "I can't, Anna! I have to make Central City work for me this time. I need to be a good teacher, and make grandfather proud, but I can feel myself losing the reins... She's taking them from me… Maren is... and I'm not sure what I can do once she has control."

"What is with you and these students?" Anna openly laughed. "Do you have an inferiority complex or something?"

"Enough!" Elsa frowned and stood from the couch.

"You know what I mean," Her voice crossed the room at a grumble. "Seriously, how is this any different than-"

"Anna, enough, please…"

Anna watched her sister move into the kitchen, her shoulders stiff. When she joined her, Elsa was fighting with the stopper on the open bottle of wine.

"What are you so afraid of?" Anna whispered as Elsa refilled her glass.

Elsa sighed. She replaced the bottle on the counter. "She's giving it back, Anna..." Elsa took a long sip. "I can't talk my way out of this one; Maren won't let me. I'm trying to, but if I give in then everything grandfather and father want from me… I'll fail them. I'll end up exactly how they anticipated… letting them down, once again."

"That won't happen!" Anna defended. "You're way too hard on yourself, you know?"

Elsa wanted to argue. She wanted to tell Anna she didn't understand- that she couldn't possibly understand.

She didn't, though.

Elsa took her wine and returned to the couch in silence.

Anna sat at her side, "Sounds like you might have met your match. This Maren sounds pretty exciting; maybe she's worth losing some inhibitions for?"

Elsa considered her behind lowered brows. Anna wasn't being condescending. She wasn't making jokes at her expense. No, for the most part, Anna appeared genuine in her response.

"You should invite her out." The words fell from her sister's lips at a whisper.

"I couldn't!" Elsa gasped.

"I know, but you should."

* * *

Cheers,

M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amyyyyyyy <3

**Author's Note:**

> Vannminner on Tumblr & Twitter


End file.
